Arthur With the Green Eyes
by PurplePatchwork
Summary: Alfred has a rather interesting hobby, which involves driving around with mute passengers and collecting art. Rated M for...you'll see.


**Just a short thingy I wanted to write.**

xoxox

Alfred loved driving his car. Race down the empty to almost empty roads, roof opened up and radio on maximum volume as he sang along with the lyrics, being as loud and obnoxious as he possibly could. His sunglasses covering amazingly blue eyes above a lightly freckled nose, teeth a brilliant white and skin a lovely tan. He wore a white shirt through which his muscles clearly showed, knowing he could win every girl with his looks and charms.

He laughed gleefully as he hit a bump in the road. Ah, what a lovely day today was! The sun burning high in the sky, a soft wind caressing his cheeks. A lovely day to go on a little road trip.

He glanced back for a moment before refocussing on the road ahead. His passenger hadn't said anything all this time. Well good! That meant less questioning once they arrived at their destination. Alfred felt giddy thinking about it, and had to bite his lip to contain an exuberant giggle. Fun, fun, fun!

He turned left at the wanted exit. Not far now. And a good thing too, he didn't want his passenger to get bored.

Alfred sighed as he thought back about what happened earlier that day. He and his passenger had had so much fun together! Arthur, he recalled the other's name had been. The two of them had met at a bar, and being the gentleman he was, he had ordered the two of them drinks after Alfred started up a conversation with him. Arthur with the green eyes. Alfred learnt of his fondness for tea and embroidery, and how Arthur had only come to this bar because a friend had dragged him along. Alfred of course immediately offered to take him to a place which was much more fun. Arthur didn't want to leave at first, but after a little persuasion they had found themselves in Alfred's car after all.

And here they were, heading for a more fun place to hang out. Or lie down. It was definitely a good place to lie down. Rest for a moment, letting the world spin by without them.

"You're going to love it Artie!" Alfred chuckled, scarcely avoiding approaching traffic. He was known for his reckless driving, but had never been in an accident. Well, he had caused a few without realizing it, but ignorance is bliss, right?

"Almost there buddie! Don't worry, you're going to love it! I already reserved us a spot."

He slowed down just enough to slip between two trees, following a hidden road only he and very few others knew off. This road was even quieter, the sunlight blocked by high oaks of all sizes.

"It's been some time since I last came here. I wonder if anything changed," Alfred mused.

But no. As he arrived his destination, everything looked exactly the same. A big clearing with yellow flowers sprouting from a small hill. Several rocks shattered across the sand, the grass not reaching very high.

"Waky waky eggs and bacy! We're here sleeping beauty!"

Alfred laughed quietly as he parked his car and let the roof slide back up. He whistled as he got out, walked around his beloved Mercedes, and reached the trunk. Opening it, he gazed down upon the person who was once Arthur Kirkland. Or maybe still was, depending on how stubborn the asshole was.

"Come on Artie, don't give me the silent treatment! You know I don't like being ignored!"

Letting out a barking laugh he reached down and slung the limp body over his shoulder.

"Geez man, you're a lot heavier than you look! Good thing I hit the gym every other day, huh? Wouldn't want to accidentally drop you on your pretty little head!"

Alfred continued his whistling as he walked over to the centre of the clearing, right next to the hill. Not so many flowers grew here, and the grass was yellow and dry.

"Told ya I'd bring you to a nice, peaceful place. No one will bother you here Artie, I promise you that."

And Alfred grinned widely as he set to digging the grave of his newest victim.

"You're number forty-seven. Can you believe that Artie? Forty-seven! Hah! And they still think it was old man Jenkins killing those teenage girls! Fucking police doesn't know art when it's staring them right in the face."

Alfred grinned wider when the grave was done. He then took out his favourite pocket-knife and kneeled beside the other.

"But I do, Arthur Kirkland with the green eyes. I haven't got that many green ones yet, you know. But yours will be the prettiest, I can tell you that."

And without further ado he brought the knife down, claiming his price.


End file.
